


Cosplaying

by TheOtherCourse (kanevixen)



Series: Tom and Abigail Series [10]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Bad Puns, Co-workers, Cosplay, Disney References, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits, Mild Smut, Party, Puns & Word Play, Vampire references, dracula references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:10:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3438197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanevixen/pseuds/TheOtherCourse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In July 2011, Immediately following the Avengers shoot (moved from April-August to January-June).Tom Hiddleston and his costar, Abigail Morgan are drawn into a very private and torrid affair. </p>
<p>Tom and Abby cosplay during their cast party, and leads to a romp in a coat closet. There are puns and fluff, and just a touch of smut.</p>
<p>
  <img/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Cosplaying

“Why are you subjecting me to this?” I watched her closely, gauging her response. I didn’t truly mind her choice, but a little dig to get her infuriated always worked to my advantage later.

“It’s my turn. You’re going sit there and like it.” She shoved the blu-ray player closed and picked up the huge bowl of popcorn from the coffee table. She sat heavily on the sofa next to me, the cushions sinking under her.

“There are better ones to watch. The talking mice… they freak me out.” There was nothing like creating a little ire in my Abby. We would fuck it out later when she was incensed the most. She could be a fierce lioness with her bite worse than her roar, and liked her bite, craved it. 

Incredulously, she stared me down for what felt like a full minute, her eyes appearing larger. Her breath was huffing and puffing through her nose, and her cheeks glossed over in pink swatches of color. “The entire empire was built on a talking mouse, Thomas!”

She was, without a doubt, the most delectable creature when she was annoyed with me. She was a passionate woman, Abby was, and she was excitable about certain subjects. Disney was one of them because she also loved fairytales and happy endings. After the crap day at rehearsals, I wanted nothing more than my fucking happy ending.

“Point taken, but all those talking animals…”

The woman nearly keeled over backwards with the force of how far her eyes rolled to the back of her head in annoyance. She waved a hand at me flippantly. Her voice raised in irritation, “Coming from the man who loves The Jungle Book. Baloo is a talking, singing and dancing bear, you oaf!”

I started to protest her calling me a name, but she shoved a handful of popcorn into my mouth to shut me up. Hot angry sex followed that night, and I got my happy ending.

* * * *

All eyes were on her when she entered the room. She was wearing a full length shimmering blue satin gown. The skirt was flared at the waist, the bodice fitted to her in the best possible way. Giving the gown extra body and more character, a short silvery bustle adorned and crowned the top of thighs. Her breasts nearly spilled over the top and my mouth watered to taste the excess. The sleeves cupped around her biceps leaving her shoulders, collarbone, top of her breasts and neck as bare as nature intended. Long white gloves adorned her hands and covered up to her elbows. Her hair was piled up on her head accented with a diamond tiara.

“You look absolutely stunning, Abby,” I whispered very close to her ear. In the dim light of the ballroom, over the din of the clanging of silverware against plates, raucous, drunken laughter, and a monster ballad through the speakers, she was in my arms. I held her, molded her to me as much as I could without arousing suspicions amongst our fellow coworkers.

She giggled, her eyes had raked down my black suit and daring black cape. The look landed on the elongated canines I wore as fangs. She licked her lips unconsciously, then bit her lower lip. “Oh my…  I do have a weakness for vampires.”

“Dressing as one wasn’t in vein, then?”

She rolled her eyes at my joke, “A tale as old as time, Hiddleston.”

A certain amount of familiarity was expected between us, as we were forged together as a married couple in the play. We had worked long, tireless hours side by side every day for two months, building trust, creating chemistry, learning each other. All this and the added pleasure of knowing every inch of her skin, every muscle, every curve, every sound that I could elicit from her away from the prying eyes of others.

“I know personally your inclination for being bitten. I wish I had dressed like Jack in Cinderella now though, without pants or trousers.”

Her eyes glanced down suggestively, awakening the memory of her hungrily looking at my lower half. That deep-seated longing to be surrounded by her awakened with stirring below the belt. “I’d like to see that,” she hinted softly. She looked up at me through her thick mascaraed lashes, the glint all too clear in her blue eyes. Her mouth slid into a wicked smile showing a sliver of white teeth. She bit her lower lip briefly before murmuring, “Ironic.” She let the innuendo hang in the air between us.

Fireworks exploded inside my head as I realized what she was implying. With a groan against the shell of her ear, I asked, my voice sounding higher to my own ears, “Abby, are you without knickers?”

Attempting an innocent tone and a demure look, she shrugged. “I couldn’t find any that go with the gown. Bare necessities, I’m afraid under the petticoat.”

Looking down into her cleavage, her breast pressed into my chest, the globes begged for attention from my mouth and hands. The even pale skin paraded and displayed before me in vivid color. The knowledge of her bare ass and feminine lips under layers of satin, organza, and crinoline as the only barriers set my blood in a rush homeward bound. The song of the south flared to life and stood proud for her.

Abby felt the up, up, up of my national treasure. She smirked proudly, “Why Saludos Amigos, Hiddleston.” Like a bolt, her white gloved hand slid between us and palmed me. One swipe down and back up before she placed that hand back on my shoulder, before anyone around us learned our secret. My breath hitched in my throat and my hips pressed into that fleeting touch. The ballad played on and all the couples were swaying as individuals, all pressed together. Nobody noticed the indecency of my grind into her. With my hand splayed on the small of her back, I kept us locked together.

“I know what’s on your mind.” Her blunt gloved fingers played with the curls at the base of my neck. The sensation might have been applied directly to my cock with all the effects it was having on me. “Do you know what I’m thinking?” she purred.

I exhaled with the increase of desire pulsing through me, “Fuck, Abby… tell me.”

Her warm breath kissed and licked across my ultra-aroused skin. My eyes slid closed, all concentration focused on her, her body underneath that costume, her voice. “Your long slim fingers disappearing into my body over and over again.” She quickly bit my earlobe, pretending to be whispering a secret for the people around. “Your face buried between my breasts. Your teeth scrapping along the tender flesh underneath. Oh, the sounds I would make… tortured gasps, frantic moans, all for you. Do you know what I want?”

Our dance both in voice and on foot brought forth a savage primal growl from deep within me. Desperate for friction and release, I pulled Abby closer to me, my erection pressed between our bodies. I wanted to take her right there on the floor, scruples be damned. “I n-need, oh fuck, I need to be inside you.”

“Not just yet. I want to lick your length, kiss the tip. Wrap my hand around you, feeling the silky skin slip along my palm. Worship the vein on the underside before wrapping my lips around the head and then deliberately slide slowly, slowly taking you into my mouth. With hollowed cheeks, I’d suck-“

My cock twitched hard, my hips jerked involuntarily into her. The erotic memory of her insanely gratifying blowjobs played through my mind, urging me toward embarrassment there on the dance floor. “I want to get inside the princess and fuck her senseless and dirty. Let’s go out for a bite.”

She giggled at the joke. “Language that should not be uttered in front of a princess,” she tsked lightly. “That just won’t do.”

Moaning for her benefit and hers alone, I insinuated, “I’m about to earn a brutal punishment for fucking her in the coat closet.” Swiftly I wrapped my hand around hers and led her out of the room. We passed through the dancing couples, weaved through the dinner tables out into the hallway. Ensuring nobody saw us, I nearly threw her into the closet and followed close behind. Securing the lock into place, I covered her body with mine, pressing her back into the door.

“So sucking me off? I thought I was the vampire.” My hips ground into hers, the clawing sexual need propelling my restrained cock into her. Friction, pressure and frustration undulated center to center.

I scraped my fake fangs against her throat, worrying the thin skin. With shaking huffs, she begged me to bite her, pressing her neck into my ministrations. Returning the fervor of my thrusts, she murmured, “You should be a pain in my neck.”

Abby’s hand suddenly grasped my engorged flesh between my legs as I tried to hike up the layers of her skirts. I was mad with lust and that hand… that hand… Breathlessly, I chanted her name in time with her rhythmic palming of my cock.

“I thought vampires sucked. When will I reap the benefits of that?”

I barely heard her badly placed puns over the strain of my crotch and her hand caressing in just the right way, all the right ways. Without warning, I shuddered and twitched violently with release, streams of ejaculate making a sticky mess within my hired pants.

I collapsed into her, breathing heavily in her peach smell along her neck. Her hands gently caressed along my back, bringing me back to her. Nervously I laughed at my perplexing response, her gown still in my hands. “Shit!”

“I was under the impression I was going to be fucked properly. The fairy godmother was an additional charge with the dress, but really awkward asking another woman for an orgasm.”

“Minx. When’s the costume due back?”

“Midnight,” she answered quickly. I gave her a sideways look at her joke. “Monday.”

“I’d like another go at shagging you in this gown.”

Sheepishly, she ribbed me again. “When you do, I shall fang you very much.”


End file.
